author's choice, author's choice, a fourth of the horses in the world today are unicorns in disguise
The Equestrian Job - Leverage, Eliot, PG
Eliot hadn't really thought about it. Despite the time he'd spent around horses, he'd just always assumed most girls went through a horse-crazy phase. It was just one of those things. Eliot liked the beasts well enough, but he'd never had that special bond that some women seemed to have.
He'd chalked it up to "Things That Aren't Fair In The World: #5,478" and gone on with his life. Become a retrieval specialist, mercenary, killer-for-hire, and finally a Robin Hood do-gooder with a group of other ex-bad guys.
Right up until the Equestrian Job. Trained show horses were expensive, and managing to smuggle them was worth a hell of a lot of cash. And when Alice, their trainer, and begged Leverage, Inc. to save her horses from their greedy owner exploiting them, they'd gone at it like any other job.
Until Eliot, masquerading as a stablehand, had watched the "horses" drink their drugged water without being affected, and had nearly trampled an oily hired gun that had tried to force himself on Alice before Eliot could even move. Until Eliot had watched Alice crying into the horses' shoulders, and them crowding around her. Until Eliot had gone to put a hand on Alice's shoulder to ask if she was all right, and saw, finally saw the star markings on the horses' foreheads were really only the tip of the iceberg.
Well, make that the base of the horn.
And if Nate later thought he was crazy for including the horses themselves in their own rescue plan, that was fine. Because he and Alice knew otherwise. That “special bond” he’d envied had every right to belong to women like Alice, virtuous, innocent, pure, and good. And Eliot would fight as fiercely as the unicorns to protect it.
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Evil Dead Trilogy, Ash & Buffy, Ash as Buffy's watcher.
Destiny - Buffy/Evil Dead Trilogy, Ash and Buffy, PG
"I think you're looking for this."
Buffy turned around to see the school's head janitor drop a heavy book onto his cart. It was cracked, aged, with gilt letters that spelled out "Creatures Of the Nyght," on the spine. An ancient book. A Watcher's book for a Slayer.
Currently nestled between Windex, 409, toilet cleaner, and a roll of garbage bags.
She looked up at the tall, dark-haired guy, a little cute, and little younger than she'd been expecting, but definitely more gym teacher and less librarian. She'd been expecting tweed suits and glasses, not a jumpsuit and a mop.
"Um... no?" she said tentatively, not at all desiring to get back into her "destiny," no matter who was going to be helping her with it.
"Let's try that again. Yeah, this is what you're looking for, chickie."
Buffy flushed with anger at the nickname, and her Watcher, if that was who he really was, smirked.
"This town's in a bad way. Lots of dead on streets. Only one person to take them out. Your kinda odds. Slayer's odds. And I can make 'em better. Made up a few new toys out in the groundskeeper's shed that can take a few heads off. And put a few extra books in the library under lock and key." He jangled the large bunch of keys at his waist. "And I got them all. Full access."
"I thought you were just supposed to, you know, watch," Buffy said finally, taken aback.
"Where's the fun in that?" he asked, grinning widely.
Buffy bit back a grin of her own. If she was going to do this, and she wasn't sure if she was yet, no matter what he said, at least this guy wouldn't be dull.
"So, who are you?"
"Name's Ash," he said, pulling a stake out of his capacious pockets and flipping it in his hands. "Sanitation."
Buffy reached out and took the book, laughing.
Inception/White Collar, Arthur & Neal as fraternal twins, they've never been on the same side of the law.
Conservation of Law – Inception/White Collar, Arthur and Neal, PG
They've never been on the same side of the law.
While Neal was smashing the grading curve in school, Arthur was cheating the other kids out of their allowance money with a combination of loaded dice and fast reflexes.
While Neal creating beautiful artwork and passing it off as old masters to make ends meet, Arthur had joined the army and become an expert in a brand-new fight-training technology.
When Neal went to jail to pay for his crimes, Arthur left the army, taking a silver briefcase with him.
Then an FBI agent had come for Neal to make his talents legitimate again, and Arthur had found an extractor that needed a good pointman.
They called each other on burner cell phones every few weeks, and when Neal had heard about Arthur's new profession, he'd spent a solid minute laughing.
"What are we, the Brothers Conservation-of-Law?"
"Only one of us can be legit at any given time? Apparently," Arthur had responded, his smirk audible.
"Ok, I'll promise I won't let my big, bad FBI handler anywhere near you," Neal promised, still trying not to crack up.
"And I'll promise I won't go invading his dreams."
"Couldn't you have picked a less weird criminal profession?"
"You imitated art to con people, I'm imitating life for the same reason," Arthur said.
Neal was silent for a moment. "I like to see you sometime, if you can manage it. I want to see you in action."
"Think you can manage a good painting for my apartment?"
"Please," Neal said, the accompanying eye roll almost audible.
Arthur laughed. "Where?"
"I'm ah... I can't really leave the city. Or much beyond a certain radius."
"Then I'll find you. Later, bro."
Neal ended the call, wiping and tossing the phone automatically, knowing Arthur was doing exactly the same thing thousands of miles away. He knew Peter was going to wonder why he was in such a good mood, but he really couldn't stop himself from smiling all the way to work.
Sherlock (BBC), John/Sherlock, Lestrade knows that the day John Watson dies is the day London will burn.
Collapsing Arch - Sherlock (BBC), Lestrade, Sherlock/John, PG-13
By Sherlock's own definition, Lestrade shouldn't have to worry about what happens to anyone in Sherlock's life.
Once John Watson came into the picture, though, all those clear rules that had governed Sherlock's life went out the window. Lestrade had seen him care for the fate of another human being, and that was quietly terrifying. Because if all that focus collapsed, there were be consequences such as even Donovan's doom-saying would be hard to compare.
No, make that impossible.
He watched the two together, moving through the crime scene with the kind of coordination that only came from lifelong partners, though they had barely known each other a year. In two, both would be so entwined that nothing would be able to stop them. Like a stone archway, if one collapsed, the other would fall, but in Sherlock's case, it would fall with two tons of nitroglycerin balanced on top, to obliterate everything if it fell to earth.
No simple case would be able to divert Sherlock's attention away from his loss, not if John Watson was the one on a slab. Lestrade knew he would likely be the first to fall, just for being a reminder.
Because Sherlock knew every street in London, every weak place, every response time, every route, exactly how much manpower could be brought to bear and where. With a little forethought (and Sherlock has more of that than a hundred members of Scotland Yard) he could cripple London and make the streets run red with blood. There would be fire and ruin, and very little anyone could do to stop him.
It would be the only way Sherlock could make a fitting funeral pyre for the one person who had every truly cared for him.